Genesis
by mentalagent13
Summary: Pre-Solace story about how Jane and Lisbon get together. Chapter 3 is finally up. Thank you for reading!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is sort of a pre-Solace story. I had a request for how they got together and I just went with it. I hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Mentalist (which is probably a good thing)

**Genesis**

She awoke to sunlight streaming in her window, perfectly angled to hit her directly in the eyes. She grumbled and rapidly blinked. It turned out to be vain attempt to wake herself properly. It was Saturday so she didn't have to go into the office unless they got a call. In her half-awake mind she decided it was much too early to actually be awake, so she shifted to a more comfortable position. Her arm reached across the bed to the other side of the bed, the side that she rarely (if ever) used. Instead of the cold she was expecting, her arm came in contact with warmth, warmth only another body could have produced.

The realization of what this warmth implied didn't set in at first. Her mind slowly pieced the night before together starting with her leaving the office. She had left the office alone, so that wasn't it. Her mind continued to wander and she remembered him knocking on her door. Piece by piece everything fell into place. Now, fully awake, her mind began to run through the night before faster than it had the first time. The final product was unbelievable.

She sat up quickly and saw him sitting in the chair across from her bed. He was studying her; that much she knew. His eyes always sparkled when he studied her. His head didn't move, and it felt as though he was reading her soul. Thankfully, she noticed that he was completely dressed except for his jacket. His suit looked as immaculate as it had yesterday, which actually didn't surprise her at all.

She was still in her pajamas, but was glad she at least had something on. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking. She had never been good at reading him, but she had learned how to hide her emotions better around him. Unfortunately, last night must have been a fluke. Right now, she would give her next two paychecks just to know what was going through his head. Sadly, she would probably never know what he was thinking. She would have to take the plunge and ask him, while he could simply read her expressions. In this moment life was definitely not fair.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and made sure the blanket came with her legs. It pulled around her legs up to her waist. Her head fell into her hands almost on its own accord. She took a few long deep breaths, and they continued to sit in silence while she gathered her courage. The silence began to slowly suffocate her, and she knew she would be the first to speak. She always was.

"I just slept with my consultant didn't I?" she asked, not moving from her current position.

"Uh-huh," was the only reply she got from across the room. She glared at him. That was not exactly the response that she was looking for. Although, if she was completely honest with herself, she would have known without his confirmation, it was that simple.

"Are you going to say anything?" her irritated question echoed around the room.

"Uh-uh," he said with a slight shake of his head. Her irritation levels reached entirely new heights at his lack of response. The man could out talk a ventriloquist, and he chose now to be silent. Great, this was just great.

"Seriously Jane, you have to say something," she tried. Her words were met with a chuckle. Needless to say, glaring was the last thing she wanted to do to him at the moment. On top of the list was shooting him. The second was kicking him out of her room right after he spoke.

"Jane," she said warningly.

"You should probably call me Patrick for this conversation," he said in a calm voice.

"Fine. Patrick, what do you propose we do about this?" she asked him.

"Well, Teresa I think we should see where 'this' takes us," he said as he walked out the door.

Dumbstruck, she sat in bed until she heard the front door shut. She also heard the click of the lock being set in place. Obviously, Jane had found her spare key and had chosen to use it to lock the front door. It was an odd use of a spare key, but she wasn't complaining. Actually, it was kind of sweet in an irritating way. It irritated her because the implications behind it, screamed protection. He probably hadn't been able to help himself when it came to protecting her, but it was still irritating.

Her thoughts drifted back over the past few months. She was trying to figure out how exactly they had gotten to this moment. It didn't take long to find the catalyst. It seemed one man affected Patrick Jane the most. That man was the malicious serial killer Red John.

That man had been apprehended about a year ago. Jane had figured out who and where the man was first. For some unknown reason, Jane hadn't killed the man by the time she had gotten there. Miraculously, when Red John pointed his weapon at her instead of Jane, Cho had come into the room and shot Red John twice. Cho had managed to hit the man in the shoulder and the knee forcing him to drop the weapon he had been holding. The cases had piled up and the entire court proceedings took three months. Four months later, Red John's death penalty was carried out by lethal injection. Jane had left no more than a week after that. A few months after that, he had returned. No one had heard from him the entire time he had been gone.

She had been worried about him, had tried to contact him. He didn't have his cell phone because it was in her office. He hadn't left a note or an address. He had returned to the office two days ago. She asked where he was staying and he hadn't answered her. Her concern flared at that moment. She remembered inviting him to her place, but he didn't come the first night. He didn't go to the office the next day, but he had shown up at her place late last night. That was how they ended up in this awkward position. Her emotions had taken over last night, there had been no alcohol involved because neither of them wanted there to be. She knew most of this was actually her fault, but blaming him made much more sense.

She knew Jane was planning on getting his consulting job back with the CBI. That had been his original intention in coming over last night. He wanted to make sure that he was welcome. They hadn't really talked about it much. She couldn't recall much of the conversation. The night had progressed quickly, and the morning had come too soon. She had to admit that she was surprised by his actions though. He had instigated it, but she had complied. He wasn't healed, far from it in fact, but he had taken a step forward. She could at least be proud of him for that.

Still, she didn't feel much better about last night. Giving up on her silent musings, she got out of bed, changed, and went downstairs. In the back of her mind she wished that this all could be some elaborate dream that her mind had somehow concocted. It was too bad that her rational side wouldn't let her believe it. In fact her "cop" brain even knew that he hadn't had his wedding ring on his finger. It also wasn't around his neck. Therefore, it couldn't be a dream because before he had come back he had always worn it.

She remembered that they had decided to watch a movie; the title would not come to her. At first, they had sat on opposite ends of the couch and it had been platonic. He had gotten up to get a cup of tea, and she had gotten a glass of water. By the time she had drifted off to sleep her head was on his shoulder. He must have moved her head to his lap while she slept because when she awoke, she couldn't figure out how she had gotten there. She was immediately embarrassed, but he shushed her with a look. She wanted to move, yet he placed a slight pressure on her forehead with his hand and she stayed where she was. She remembered her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Eventually, he had helped her sit up and they had stared into each other's eyes for a few long seconds. The rest of the night came in pieces that were slightly out of order, as if she didn't want to remember it.

Her coffee pot had stopped making the incessant gurgling noises and she grabbed a fresh cup. It was warm and smelled like heaven. As she drank her coffee, and her thoughts slowly cleared, she began to worry. He wanted to come back to be _her_ consultant again. She wanted him back at work, the entire team did, but now it would be much more difficult. She would _have_ to see him on Monday. There was no way she could avoid him. He would definitely be coming back. Hightower loved Jane's case closed record. He also had her wrapped around his little finger.

There was truly nothing she could do until Monday. He hadn't told her where he was staying and she realized his cell was still on her desk. She had never actually given it back to him. Her mind was now trying to figure out if he had actually been there. He felt like a figment of her imagination now that she was fully awake. Sighing, she tried to concentrate on the warmth that her coffee was offering. Eventually, she poured most of it down the drain. The warmth it offered reminded her too much of him.

**A/N:** Tell me what you think! Reviews are most welcome. If you like it I can give you more.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews on the first chapter! Here is the second chapter! I do hope that you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** Me own Mentalist? Do I look that rich?

Monday morning came all too soon for her liking. There hadn't been enough time to think, to figure out how to act. She hadn't talked to him; hadn't discussed the possible consequences. There had been no planning on how to keep it a secret from everyone else. She knew that she could keep her emotions in check. It really wasn't that hard to hide them. Yet, she knew Jane was different. She didn't have time to figure out how different post-Red John Jane was from pre-Red John Jane. She didn't know if he had thought out his actions from the weekend. The only thing she knew was that _she_ hadn't thought out _her_ actions. That in itself scared her.

She purposely went to work an hour before she usually did to try and beat him there. If she could somehow manage to get into her office before she saw him, she would have more time to think. The situation was far from under control and that bothered her more than the situation itself. Having control was a must for her, losing it meant relinquishing it to someone else. In her case that was definitely not an option. She was the boss. The boss always had control.

The sun had not yet come out when she walked into the building. It was truly much earlier than she cared for it to be. She had never been a morning person; being here this early only solidified how bothered she really was. The hallway was dimly lit as she walked through them. Her car was also the only car in the parking lot when she had arrived. That fact gave her more confidence than it probably should have. The man she was trying to avoid was a master at disguise in every sense of the word. He could hide an elephant if he wanted to (she wasn't positive he hadn't growing up). His car could be hidden discreetly down the road somewhere. She knew all of this, but she still hoped.

Her office beckoned to her when she walked through the bullpen. She didn't even bother to glance at his couch. She was confident that even _he_ wouldn't be here this early. In fact he shouldn't be here because he was not employed here currently. Her office looked exactly as it had when she left on that fateful Friday night. The blinds were drawn and the lights off. Nothing looked out of place, the door was shut, and none of the blinds were moving conspicuously. Only then did she chance a look at the bullpen. His couch looked dusted. That made her chuckle.

She felt rather than saw him lying on the couch due to the darkness of the room. She tried in vain to see if she could make out his silhouette on the couch. Her hand hesitated to flip the light switch almost as if she was afraid to prove herself wrong. It was odd once she realized that she had recently acquired a physical reaction to his presence. It wasn't one of anticipation or of fear. It also couldn't be described as guilt or shame. Something inside her simply informed her that he was near, even if she couldn't see him. That thought should have scared her, instead it comforted her more than she liked.

She heard him sit up, and that's when she decided to flip the switch. They studied each other for an instant before she broke eye contact. It was too much for her to take in right now. She had hoped that she could get to work before him to think in an environment that wasn't tainted with an emotional presence. Her place was currently humming with emotional turmoil after the weekend. She hadn't been able to think coherently there.

"Teresa…," he said, but she shook her head. Yes, she wanted to talk to him, but she wanted to do the talking. Unfortunately, Jane had other plans.

"Do you want me to talk to Hightower?" he asked her softly. He was currently asking her permission for more than the job, that much she knew. His words were laced with a double meaning she couldn't begin to translate. Her skills at reading between the lines were foggy at best. Her mind was trying to figure out what he wanted in that moment. She couldn't do it.

"Do what you want Jane. You are very good at your job. The team will take you back, no questions asked," she told him calmly. She didn't allow her words to have a double meaning. She wanted him to understand that this conversation was about work, about the job only. She needed to keep personal and work separate. There was no possible way for her to mix them and stay sane at the same time. There was only one problem. She couldn't tell him no.

"Do what you want Patrick," were the next words out of her mouth. She saw his confusion, but it was only there for an instant. Shortly, his features turned to one of understanding once he comprehended the name difference. He had always been able to read her, no matter how vague she left the statement.

He cracked a smile at her and leaned back against the couch cushions. He obviously wanted to talk now, rather than later. She needed a physical barrier between them to have this conversation. Slowly, she circled her desk and sat down. She gave him her full attention and he smirked at her response. She knew that _he_ knew how uncomfortable she was with having this conversation at the office. Yet, he had manipulated her into it without saying a word. She wished that she could be less readable.

"Hightower won't be here for another hour, Teresa," Jane said knowingly. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his tone. She should have known that he would guess she was coming in early. He had probably also known she wanted time to think before she talked to him. He had given her that by not bothering her for the rest of the weekend. He smiled a genuine smile as she sat thinking. She couldn't help, but smile back. Somehow, he had managed to lighten the mood in the room, and for that she was thankful.

"What do you want Teresa?" he broke concentration. Obviously, there _was_ something he didn't know. The problem was, she didn't know the answer either.

"Jane…," she started.

"Patrick," he interrupted.

"What?" she almost shouted in confusion. She didn't try to hide the irritation in her voice.

"For this conversation it's Patrick. I know you want to keep work and personal separate. So if we are having a personal conversation it's Patrick. If the conversation is about work I am the pain in the ass consultant Jane," he told her easily. Damn him for being able to read her mind. How was she supposed to have a serious conversation with a man that knew her thoughts? It was more than a little unnerving.

She cautiously watched him as he moved from his position on the couch to the chair across from her. Thankfully, he left the desk as a physical barrier. He probably knew that she would be more comfortable that way. It did irk her for a minute, but she also saw the advantages of his abilities. Most of the time it was annoying, but sometimes, it could be a blessing.

"What do _you _want Teresa?" he repeated his previous question. She didn't miss the emphasis on the word "you" either. She felt him studying her, seeking her eyes. She wouldn't allow him to find them. She looked down at her desk, then at her feet. The meaning of meeting his eyes had changed over the last few days. There was something oddly intimate about the mundane action. She also knew that it would have a calming effect on her, much like their close proximity. So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

"The team wants you back Jane," she said.

"Teresa, what do you want?" he asked for the third time. Against her better judgment she finally met his gaze. She knew the instant he understood her decision. She didn't have to utter a word. There was a light in his eyes she had never seen before. He gave her his second genuine smile of the day. Usually, she would be lucky to receive a smile a week, and even that was pushing it. She studied his eyes with a new fervor. To her, his eyes actually gleamed with delight. For the second time that day she smiled back at him. She couldn't help it, his smile was infectious.

"We take it slow, I mean it," she said.

"Oh really?" he said as he laughed out loud, "Do we even know what slow is?" His smile got wider. She couldn't quite believe that anyone could smile that big. She saw the playful light in his eyes. It was something that she hadn't seen in a long time. It was also something that made her want to tread with caution. He was up to something…she just didn't know what.

"So Lisbon, who should talk to Hightower?" he asked. She watched as the light sparkled brighter in his eyes. He wanted her to guess something. He wanted her to be confused. If confusion was really what he wanted, then he had successfully achieved his goal. There was no doubt about it, she was confused. They had basically agreed that _he _was going to talk to Hightower. She was not stepping into that office until she was told she had to.

"What?" was her eventual reply.

"Patrick or Jane? I figured that since I am going by two different names I should have two different personalities," he said as he stood and left her office. All she could do was roll her eyes and smile as she started to work.

**A/N: **Don't forget to tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I sincerely apologize for the wait in this story. I was busy over break and didn't really have time to post anything. I hope that you enjoy the last chapter. Please review and tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Mentalist no matter how many times I wish for it.

They had been dating for two months now and had somehow managed to keep it quiet. Of course, she didn't particularly like the term 'dating', but there wasn't an alternative. The term itself seemed childish, but 'going out' was just as bad. She didn't even want to contemplate the idea of 'seeing each other' and the connotations that it carried.

Much to her initial surprise, Jane had been given his job back. He was still able to work with the SCU. Hightower had allowed them the personal relationship as long as it didn't affect their work. He wasn't an agent and therefore, was given certain leniencies that others would not be allowed. She had told him they were going to take things slow and, to his credit, he had agreed. That first night had left them both a little confused.

Of course, one night could change your entire life. She, of all people, should know that. Her mother had been killed by a drunk driver at night. Now, those words rang true once again. Usually around this time of night, she would be enjoying one last cup of her delicious coffee. There was just one problem; the smell of coffee made her nauseous. The taste actually made her physically sick. Her mornings were worse, much worse. She had never been much of a morning person, but the fatigue was beginning to get to her. Of course, the occasional run to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach didn't help either.

Two days ago, she realized she was late, really late. Her job as a cop had never really done wonders for her regularity. The past few months had been extremely stressful to the point that she couldn't imagine living without stress. So, being the intelligent woman that she was, she made an appointment with her doctor. He had done a blood test. The result of that test was the current reason for her sitting at her kitchen table. In fact, she had been there for the past half an hour staring at the same piece of paper.

She was pregnant.

With Patrick Jane's child.

Oh, Lord in Heaven.

This was definitely _not_ a good thing. She sighed and put her head in her hands for the umpteenth time that night. The paper lay, taunting her, only inches away. Her usual defense mechanism took over and she became angry. She balled up the test results and threw them across the kitchen. The paper ball bounced of the cabinets and onto the floor where it stopped. Her emotions threatened to completely overtake her, but she fought them. Miraculously, she kept the tears at bay. In the back of her mind, a voice told her the extra stress would be bad for her, but she didn't care right now. She couldn't relinquish the control that had taken her years to perfect.

Her bed beckoned to her. She was utterly exhausted after such a long and emotional day. She didn't want to go to bed simply because she didn't want to have to wake up in the morning. She could deal with being tired, had been for ages. No, this was different; she knew she would wake up and feel drained. Her mornings recently had been spent battling the nausea leaving her spent at the end of the day. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she opted for the bed. She would have to somehow talk to him tomorrow, and she needed all the energy she could muster to do that.

She saw him sitting on her couch when she walked into her office. One deep breath was followed by another and another as she tried to gather her courage. He met her eyes after the third breath and she knew he knew. In fact he had probably known before she had.

There was a cup of steaming…something on her desk. It wasn't coffee; that much she knew. She also noted the tea bag in her trashcan as she passed by it. Genuinely curious, she walked up to it to study it better. Eventually, she sat in her desk chair refusing to touch the beverage.

"It'll settle your stomach," he offered a few minutes later as he moved to the chair opposite her desk. She still hadn't stopped eyeing it with uncertainty

"Who said I was sick?" she snapped at him. For some reason she wanted to be angry with him. It would make it easier if he just told her what she knew. She didn't want to voice it out loud. She wasn't sure her voice would work if she tried.

"Teresa, I've known for three weeks now," he said softly. He didn't offer an explanation of how he had known and that bothered her. She shifted in her seat and sighed. Defeated, she reached into her briefcase and handed him the crumpled test results. He attempted to smooth them out, but refrained from commenting. She was grateful for his silence.

He stared at the results for a few minutes before finally looking at her. She caught his eye and took a sip out of the mug on her desk. Surprisingly, it did help to settle her stomach a little. Maybe she could keep what was left of her breakfast where it belonged. She watched him reach into his pocket, his eyes back to the paper in his hands. A restaurant packet of saltines found their way to her desk. She eyed them as suspiciously as she had the mug.

"It was the only thing I could get on such short notice. I didn't know you had made a doctor's appointment until this morning while I was at the diner," he said almost apologetically. She decided she wasn't going to ask how he knew about her appointment. He was Jane after all.

"What are they for?" she asked wrinkling her nose at them.

"They are for you to eat, Teresa. You need to eat something and keep it down so that hopefully you can keep your lunch down. No more skipping meals," he said seriously. He caught her eye as he said the last sentence. There was no hint of teasing in his tone.

At first, she was taken aback by his concern. It only lasted an instant though, as she became angry. She of all people does _not_ need to be taken care of. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, had done it for years.

"I can take care of myself, Patrick," she told him with assurance.

"It's not just you I worry about, Teresa," he responded softly. His eyes glanced down at her desk aimed at her still flat stomach. She suddenly felt overwhelmed. It took her a minute, but she regained control before she went over the edge. Emotions will not help this situation at all.

"Patrick, I am fine," she reiterated.

"You are _not_ fine," he exploded suddenly with anger that she had only seen a few times before and never directed at her, "You are not sleeping, not eating, and you are stressed more than ever. In the morning, you can't keep anything down, and that will sometimes drift into the afternoon. Your solution is to skip lunch. On top of that, you are scared out of your mind. Teresa, you are definitely _not_ fine."

She had never before considered the role he would play in all of this before now. They hadn't been together long enough to become integral parts of each other's lives. She realized how wrong she actually was. They had been relying on each other long before they had started a relationship. It took his outburst to solidify that fact for her.

"I'm moving in tomorrow," he said as he stood up, "and staying over tonight."

She opened her mouth to argue once again. She closed it when he actually glared at her. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul for an instant and she was silenced. Her shock must not have registered on her face or he chose to ignore it because he continued unhindered.

"I'll stay on the couch if you want. You do not have to go through this alone, Teresa, and I am not going to let you," he said. He began to pace about her office and she couldn't pay attention to his continued mumbling. She was too stunned by the turn of events to listen. He had ripped control of the situation right out of her capable hands and placed it in his (probably) more capable hands. He knows more than she does about this anyway. She caught the end of his mumbling when he talked about baby proofing her apartment. That was not something she had thought about doing this early.

"It's never too early to baby proof, Teresa," he said and continued to pace. She had to remember that he could practically read her mind on a bad day.

"I'm going to talk to Hightower about getting you out of field work. Then I'm going to check the CBI policy on leave for me and for you. You and I will go talk to Cho later and tell him why he is taking over all work in the field," he finished and left her office, intent on his mission.

It was in that moment, she realized that any fragment of control she thought she might have had was gone. Yet, she really didn't mind giving it to him. Her hands drifted to cover her stomach and she wondered how many times she would do this in the coming months. She was suddenly much calmer than she had been for weeks and she couldn't quite figure out why. Her mind drifted to consider the conversation that had just ended. It clicked in an instant why she was relaxed. She trusted him to take control of the situation. She trusted him and that was all that mattered.


End file.
